


aflame

by wyverning



Series: kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Frotting, Grinding, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Office Sex, captain!neil, postcanon, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyverning/pseuds/wyverning
Summary: Abruptly, suddenly, Neil misses Andrew. Even though they’re in the same room, Neil knows he’s been busy lately, and he says, softly, “Thank you. Come here?”Andrew approaches easily enough. He looks good tonight, hair artfully disheveled and a dark, heavy jacket draped over his shoulders.“Yes or no?” Neil asks when Andrew’s close enough to touch. He nods, and Neil makes a happy noise in the back of his throat, tugging the lapel of Andrew’s jacket until he can kiss him.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946149
Comments: 12
Kudos: 202





	aflame

**Author's Note:**

> day 6: impact play | fucking machine | blowjobs | **office sex**
> 
> fast and to the point today, folks!

“I’m heading home, kid,” Wymack says, standing up from his chair and stretching until his spine cracks audibly. “Don’t stay too late, okay?”

Neil nods distractedly. He's staring intently between two possible backliner recruits, eyes flicking back and forth between their two files. They’re pretty similar, and he thinks he’ll have to pull video footage from their recent games to really tell who’d be a better player to send an offer to, but maybe a video break would do him well. He's been staring at words on a page for far too long.

Wymack leaves without much fanfare: they’ve been doing this nearly every night this week, and the routine generally involves Wymack leaving first and Neil staying until his stomach growls too vigorously to ignore.

Being captain of the Foxes is a challenge on the best of days, but for Neil, who never could have even _imagined_ his life being this mundane yet fulfilling, it’s worth every moment. 

Time gets away from Neil, like it often does. He's created a permanent indent in his lower lip with how hard he's worried it over the past few hours, and the stack of player folders on his co-opted desk seems endless. He wonders if this is what Wymack and Kevin had done a few years ago when they’d stumbled across the file Coach Hernandez had sent them.

"Junkie," a flat voice says from the doorway. Neil looks up just in time to catch the dark projectile hurtling toward his head. It's his phone.

"Oh," Neil says sheepishly. "Thank you."

Andrew stares at him from the entryway of Wymack's office. "What's the point of even having a phone if you don't actually take it anywhere?"

"You knew where I was," Neil reasons. 

“It’s almost midnight,” Andrew says. He steps into the office, and Neil belatedly notices that he’s holding a shaker bottle and a tupperware container of food. “You haven’t eaten.”

Neil’s lips twitch into a smile. “My poor figure,” he says. “Is that for me?”

“No,” Andrew says, even as he dumps the bottle and the food onto Neil’s desk. 

Reaching for the container, he realizes it’s one of Kevin’s bland meal-prep dinners. Not the most exciting of foods, but the bottle’s probably a protein shake, so he grabs that and downs it first. The food turns out to be grilled chicken and rice, which isn’t terrible, and before he realizes it, Neil’s eaten the whole thing. Andrew had even heated it up before coming, and the touch of kindness doesn't go unnoticed.

Andrew watches him, and Neil pretends not to notice his disapproval. Recruitment season is coming up, and Neil needs to get through all of these players. There’s not much room for compromise, not with the Foxes needing to bulk up their team following the infamy of their national championship win. They’re a top-class team, now, and the ragtag team of Neil’s family isn’t quite going to cut it on the main stage anymore.

Abruptly, suddenly, Neil misses Andrew. Even though they’re in the same room, Neil knows he’s been busy lately, and he says, softly, “Thank you. Come here?”

Andrew approaches easily enough. He looks good tonight, hair artfully disheveled and a dark, heavy jacket draped over his shoulders.

“Yes or no?” Neil asks when Andrew’s close enough to touch. He nods, and Neil makes a happy noise in the back of his throat, tugging the lapel of Andrew’s jacket until he can kiss him.

It’s a kiss of gratitude, of affection and everything between them, but it quickly spirals out of control. Andrew bears down on him, a steady, consistent weight above Neil, and Neil brushes his hand against the bared skin of Andrew’s hip in a quiet question. 

Andrew withdraws just enough to murmur, “Above my waist,” against Neil’s mouth, and Neil doesn’t need any further invitation. He slips his hands underneath Andrew’s shirt, roaming over the broad, heated flesh of his back, and then pulls him closer.

They haven’t done anything like this in a handful of days, and Neil’s arousal is a simmer that could easily be brought to boil. “The camera,” he says, before he gets too distracted in Andrew’s arms to remember it.

Andrew’s very nearly in Neil’s lap, and neither of them seems particularly eager to stop. They both look at the camera, a sleek, black thing in the corner of the room. It had been one of Wymack’s demands when they’d first dealt with all of the vandalism, and it’s absolutely running right now.

Andrew brings his hand up and flips the camera off.

Neil laughs breathlessly and moves back in for another kiss. He has no idea how far Andrew wants to go right now, but he’ll take whatever’s being offered. His exhaustion melts away, attention captured entirely by Andrew.

A warm hand settles on the back of Neil’s neck, and he could just about purr. “What do you want?” he asks, resting his forehead against Andrew’s own.

Andrew moves until he’s straddling Neil on the office chair he’s sitting in. It’s provocative, and pretty abundantly clear what’s about to happen, but with Andrew’s broad back facing Wymack’s security camera, the majority of what they’re doing will be fairly obscured. 

Neil keens in anticipation, hips thrusting up against Andrew’s without his explicit permission. 

Andrew plays at the elastic of Neil’s waistband, fingernails gently stretching at the skin beneath his sweats. It’s a silent question in a language they’ve both spent the past few years learning, and Neil jerks his hips, closer into Andrew’s grip, in clear invitation. 

After that, it’s almost no effort at all for Andrew to withdraw both of their dicks: one of the perks of practice workouts is the easy athletic-wear they tend to change into post-showering.

Andrew’s just as hard as Neil is, and he lets out an unsteady breath at the feel of Andrew’s calloused palm dragging up the length of his cock. 

Neil curses, but Andrew’s relentless: he lines up their lengths and wraps one hand around the both of them.

“Spit,” Andrew says. It’s a quiet command, but one that sends a shiver racing down Neil’s spine as he hurries to comply. He spits into his own hand before bringing it around the two of them, clumsily stroking both of their dicks. Spit’s not perfect, but it’s slick enough to bring them both that extra bit of pleasure. There’s no reason to take their time, and finesse is thrown to the wayside as they both fuck into the shared grip of their hands.

Andrew pushes up against Neil so hard that the chair squeaks; for some reason, that’s enough to set Neil off, and he moans loudly.

Maybe it’s the location, or Andrew’s rare impulsivity, but Neil feels electrified with arousal and affection for the man in his lap. He wants _more_ , even though he knows it’s impossible right now.

“When we get back home,” Neil murmurs into Andrew’s neck, “I want you to fuck me.”

Though he’s never the most vocal of the two of them in bed, Andrew’s voice hitches audibly at Neil’s words. “You’re insatiable,” he says, but judging by how his hand picks up speed, hand jerking them both off together at a relentless pace, he’s not opposed to the idea.

The heat of their dicks as they rut up against one another feels contagious: Neil is too hot, and he writhes in the chair before Andrew pins him down more effectively with his powerful thighs.

“Shit,” Neil mutters, because Andrew demonstrating his strength sure as hell isn’t doing anything to help him hold on for much longer. “You feel so good, Drew. Wanna come."

It's not like there's a race to the finish line, but Neil doesn't want to come quite yet. He knocks Andrew's hand away, pushing himself out of his chair. Before he can do much to react, Neil puts his palms on Andrew's shoulders and gently guides him until his back hits the edge of the desk.

"Kinky, Josten," Andrew says, scratching a fingernail down the length of Neil's jaw. Neil can't resist anymore and ducks down for another kiss, re-aligning their dicks as he steps back into Andrew's space.

It's hotter and more intense with them both standing. The angle's shifted, and Andrew doesn't hesitate to wrap his hand around them both again, jerking them off with the kind of ferocity he doesn't often display. It's good, and ever-so-slightly on the right edge of rough, and Neil loses himself in the sensation of Andrew's tongue sliding against his own as precome leaks from his cock and slicks the way for Andrew's hand.

It doesn't take more beyond that: Andrew comes with a shudder and a quiet gasp. Neil follows soon after, spilling over himself in an orgasm that wrings him dry. When his head stops feeling so fuzzy, he looks down to see the mess of their shared spend soiling his shirt. 

“Wymack’s going to be pissed,” Neil says, easy pleasure radiating through him. He leans up just a bit until he can scrape his teeth along Andrew’s collarbone. 

“That’s not my problem,” Andrew responds, baring his neck for the briefest of moments before finally moving away from Neil. “But you are. Get yourself cleaned up; I’m not letting you into the car with that mess on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> please come shitpost with me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/wyverning)


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